


let me be your shelter

by SydneyHorses



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28220298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneyHorses/pseuds/SydneyHorses
Summary: Sylvain and Felix's sleigh ride is supposed to be a lighthearted way to take Sylvain's mind off his work. Instead, they get more than they'd bargained for - deathly more.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59
Collections: Sylvix Advent Calendar





	let me be your shelter

**Author's Note:**

> this is my fic for the Sylvix Advent Calendar! It's been such a fun event to be a part of, and I got to work with one of my very best friends. The art in this fic is done by the amazing @yaksinhats on twitter - please check them out!!!

“Okay,” Felix says. “This is ridiculous.” He plops himself down on Sylvain’s desk, sitting square in the middle of all his paperwork.

He better not have wrinkled anything. Sylvain’s spent all day working on these reports, and if he has to redo anything because Felix’s non-existent ass wrinkled something, he’s going to lose it. “Felix.”

Felix crosses his arms. “I travelled all this way to see you, and you’ve barely looked at me twice.”

“I kissed you this morning!” Sylvain protests. “We sleep in the same bed when you’re here!”

“And yet,” Felix says, acerbic as always, “I woke up without you in my arms.”

Sylvain wilts. “Right. Sorry.” He bites his bottom lip, scooching his chair a little closer to his desk. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches out to rest his hands on Felix’s thighs, letting out a soft sigh as he looks up at him. “I have a few more letters to write, and then I’m all yours.”

Felix narrows his eyes. “Sylvain! That’s not good enough.”

And really, what is Sylvain supposed to do but lean forward and press a kiss to Felix’s lips? “Sorry,” he whispers. When he pulls away, there’s a faint flush to Felix’s cheeks, and a soft smile on his face. “Can I make it up to you?”

Felix’s mouth twitches. “Is that all you think about?”

“What, you?” Sylvain answers. “Of course. What else is there?”

Felix scoffs, but his blush betrays how much he loves the attention. “You’re such a sap.”

“You love me,” Sylvain says, confident enough to actually believe it.

Felix rolls his eyes. “I’m sick of being cooped up in here. Can we go out and do something?”

Sylvain hazards a glance outside. It’s yet another windswept day in Faerghus, and not at all the kind of day in which he can imagine ‘going out and doing something.’ Still, it’s Felix, and so he stands without protest. “Let me put on something warmer.”

Felix straightens. “We could go for a sleigh ride? It’s that time of year.”

Sylvain’s stops in his tracks. “Really? You hate sleigh rides.”

Felix shrugs. “Well. You’re so busy, and I know you like them.”

It’s true. Sylvain is so busy that some days he forgets he’s in a relationship. Even two years after the end of the war, reconstruction is still ongoing, and they’re stuck making trips to each other as often as possible. “Okay,” Sylvain says. He ducks his head, not wanting Felix to see such blatant, unreserved affection on his face. Some days it still feels like he’s going to drive Felix away.

Felix takes Sylvain’s hand as they make their way down to the stables. He knows better than to comment on such blatant displays of affection, so Sylvain just presses their shoulders together. When Felix is gone, he’ll look back on this moment and remember what it is to be loved.

It’s not far, and before long they’re among the hay and horses. Sylvain sighs, a smile making its way onto his face.

Felix’s mouth twitches. “What horse should we take?”

Sylvain hesitates by his warhorse’s stall, reaching out to stroke a hand down Lady’s nose. She’s been put out to pasture in recent years, but her ears still prick at the sight of him. Even so, she’s much too fine-boned and delicate to pull a sleigh, and Sylvain leaves her with a regretful glance over his shoulder.

“He’ll do,” he says to Felix. The stall he’s stopped outside belongs to a wide-chested work horse, one that Sylvain bought not long after the war ended.

Felix frowns. He’s not fond of horses, although he pretends to be, for Sylvain’s sake. “He’s very large.”

Sylvain laughs. “Well, there’s a lot of snow out there! We need a big, strong horse to push through it all!”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Right. Fine. What’s his name?”

Sylvain reaches a hand over the door. The gelding stretches his nose out to sniff it, delicately, then snorts. Sylvain snorts back. “Peppermint. Minty, for short.”

Felix steps up next to him. He doesn’t extend a hand for the dusty brown horse to sniff, but he nods at in a companionable sort of way. “Right. Well?”

Sylvain kisses his boyfriend’s cheek, then grabs Minty’s halter and heads into his stall. The gelding stands quietly as Sylvain brushes him, humming under his breath while Felix looks on. There’s a folksong about a brave bluebird that’s been stuck in his head for days, and he can’t help but hum while he grooms Minty. Felix doesn’t lift a finger, but when Minty’s coat is gleaming, Felix hands him the harness and helps him hook the gelding up to the sleigh.

“You know,” Sylvain says. “I was never a big fan of sleighs.”

Felix rolls his eyes and climbs into the sleigh. “Oh, please. You liked anything that got you out of the house and near a horse.”

Sylvain laughs. “You have a fair point.” He climbs into the sleigh after Felix, taking the reins and letting out a deep sigh.

It’s a crisp, cold afternoon in Gautier territory, and there’s enough snow on the ground that the sleigh cuts through without any trouble, sliding across the wintery landscape. The sun reflects off the stark white snow, blinding Sylvain momentarily.

“Sorry I’ve been so busy,” Sylvain says.

Felix’s gaze is fixed on the horizon. Sylvain wishes he knew what he saw. “It’s fine,” Felix says. “I know you’re trying to undo your father’s legacy.”

Sylvain twitches the reins and clucks at Minty. “You’re allowed to be upset,” he says. “That I’m not there for you. Or if I’m… letting you down. You can tell me.”

“Sylvain,” Felix snaps, just a shade too harsh. If he were someone else, Sylvain wouldn’t be able to read the affection and worry hiding just underneath his words. “If I really, truly needed you, no meeting would be enough to stop you. You’d saddle up the first horse you saw and come running.”

Sylvain laughs, quiet and just for Felix. The cold steals it away, but he knows Felix heard. “Yeah. That’s true.”

Felix presses his shoulder against Sylvain. “That’s what matters.”

It’s not long before they’re nestled in the sleigh together, Minty plodding along through the snow. Sylvain has on a heavy fur cloak, as does Felix, and there’s a blanket spread across their laps. It’s not especially cold today by Faerghus standards, but Sylvain still appreciates the warmth of the furs.

“Alright,” Sylvain says. “You’re right, this is nice.”

“I told you so. You needed a break.”

“It’s funny,” Sylvain continues. “Back in school you were always the one trying to get me to work harder, and I was always trying to get you to slack off.”

Felix grunts. “I’m not trying to get you to slack off. Just to pay attention to me.”

Sylvain laughs, leaning down to kiss Felix’s cheek with a loud smack. “Same difference.”

Felix rolls his eyes, but he scoots closer to Sylvain anyways. Sylvain grins and settles in against his side, ready for a perfect, peaceful sleigh ride.

-

Sylvain ignores the first howl they hear. It’s winter, and Gautier territory is heavily wooded. Of course they’re going to hear sounds of wildlife. It’s nothing new. Minty isn’t concerned, and so he settles into Felix’s side and pulls him close. “I am sorry,” he repeats. “That I’ve been so busy lately.”

Felix is tense against his side for a moment, then relaxes. “You’re trying to undo a legacy,” he says. “It’s understandable that you’d be busy.”

Sylvain kisses Felix’s head. “Not too busy for you.”

Felix chuckles. “You’re such a sap.”

“Mm.” Sylvain clucks at Minty, and he springs forward into a trot. “I’m your sap.” It’s times like these that the ring weighs heavily in his pocket. He’s taken to carrying it everywhere these days. There’s no such thing as the perfect proposal, he knows, but he’d like the moment to at least feel right. What the ‘right’ moment is, he doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’ll know it when it happens.

And now, trotting through the snow with a nice horse and the man he loves at his side, Sylvain thinks that this may be something approaching the right moment.

“So I’ve been thinking,” he says.

Felix sighs. “If you try to talk to me about Sreng-”

“No! It’s not that!”

Felix narrows his eyes. “No? What is it then?”

Sylvain reaches a hand into the box in his pocket and touches it gently. It’s small, carved from part of the tree they used to climb together as little kids. Felix was never good at climbing, but Dimitri would pick him up and put him on a lower branch, and Ingrid and Sylvain would pretend not to know.

“Well,” he says. “It’s…”

He’s interrupted by the sound of a wolf howling. It’s closer this time, and Minty stops in his tracks, ears pricked. His head is held high, and he’s quivering slightly. “Minty?” Sylvain asks. The horse doesn’t respond, even when Sylvain clucks again.

Another howl, closer this time. Sylvain swears under his breath. “Do you have a sword?”

Felix scoffs. “Sylvain.”

“Right, of course you do.”

It’s not like wolves to attack; they’re normally peaceful creatures, even in the middle of Faerghus winters. Like most dangerous wildlife, the myths around them are largely just that: myths. Leave them alone, and they’re just as likely to leave you alone.

“Minty,” Sylvain says, low and warning. “Come on.”

One of Minty’s ears pivot back towards Sylvain, but he doesn’t move. “He hears something,” Felix says.

“No shit,” Sylvain replies. “You hear the wolves too, don’t you?”

“Oh.” Felix is quiet for a moment. “I thought it was the wind? There aren’t as many wolves in Fraldarius.”

That’s no excuse, but Sylvain holds his tongue. He has more important things to worry about, like the wolves that are apparently tracking them, and their horse, who’s currently frozen in fear.

The world jumps into motion in an instant. Another howl, far closer this time, and Minty whirls, the sleigh pivoting awkwardly behind him. Sylvain cries out at the sudden whiplash, and the sleigh tilts dangerously to one side. Felix goes tumbling out over the side like a ragdoll, and Sylvain swears, jumping out after him. Minty neighs, high and shrill, and then takes off, the sleign trailing off kilter behind him. “Shit,” Sylvain says. He scrambles to his feet, only to hear another howl, even closer this time. “Shit!” Felix swears, then climbs to his feet. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Sylvain says. “We need - wolves. There’s wolves.”

“They won’t attack,” Felix snaps. “Wolves keep to themselves unless provoked.”

Sylvain knows that, logically, but he can’t deny the howls surrounding them like a thicket of thorns. Felix draws his sword. Sylvain has only a few small knives, his wits, and the spells he half-remembers from the war. A few wolves should be no trouble, even if it’s a large pack, but the thought of being alone out here with hungry wildlife isn’t a welcome thought.. They’re not wearing their armor, dressed instead in thick winter furs. If a wolf gets a good bite out of either of them, frostbite will be more likely to get them.

Another howl. Sylvain summons a fire spell and holds it, small and ready in his palm.

The world holds its breath around them. There’s no wind, no snow, nothing but the sound of their own breathing. A twig snaps in the woods to their right. Sylvain whirls, and Felix steps to his side.

A low growl.

The three wolves that step out of the forest are thin, mangy creatures. The winter has not been kind to them, and the growl that sounds from one is weak and wanting. Sylvain’s hit with a pang of pity - if only they had food for them, or some way that they could help. Wolves have just as much a right to live here as the rest of them.

Felix holds no such reservations. He levels his sword at one of the wolves, as if daring it to come closer. Sylvain lets the flame in his hand grow until the light from it is blinding. The largest of the wolves, a large grey one with a scar on his muzzle, steps forward. Sylvain’s flame flares, and Felix’s sword doesn’t falter.

For a moment, everything is still. Then, just as quickly as they’d appeared, they’re gone. The large grey wolf turns with a whimper and scampers back into the underbrush, followed by his two packmates.

Felix doesn’t sheath his sword for several minutes, and Sylvain doesn’t dispel his magic until he does. “There,” Felix says. “Easy.”

It’s only once there’s no threat from the wolves that Sylvain realizes the gravity of their situation. They’re alone, surrounded by icy winds and trees that loom impossibly tall above their heads. It’s cold, and clouds heavy with snow are gathering above them.

The sleigh’s tracks can still be seen in the snow, yes, but it’s a long way back to the estate on foot, and as the first snowflake of many drifts down, Sylvain isn’t sure how long the tracks will last.

-

Children of Faerghus are taught from a very young age what to do if they get lost in the snow. If you were following a path and are still on it, stay on it. If you’re in the middle of nowhere with no idea where to go, stay where you are. If you have a trail to follow, retrace your steps until you get back to the path.

Sylvain and Felix are lucky. Multiple people knew where they were going, and Minty almost certainly ran right back to the estate. They’re still on the path, and they know how to get back home. There is, of course, one problem.

Sylvain hasn’t been stranded in the cold like this since he was very young. “Felix,” he says. His chest is tight. What way were they going on the path again?

“I’m right here,” Felix says. “You’re not alone.”

He’s not alone. Felix is here. Felix can get them home. All those years ago, it was Glenn who found him. He bundled Sylvain up in his cloak and carried him home, and Felix snuck into the infirmary and climbed into bed with him. They fell asleep curled around each other, and that was how Sylvain knew that what was happening was real.

“I’m here,” Felix says again.

Sylvain nods.

Felix lets out a short, frustrated sigh and takes Sylvain’s arm, steering him gently to the base of a tall pine tree, close enough to the sleigh’s tracks that they’ll easily be able to see any search parties. Sylvain’s hands feel numb, and he knows it’s not from the cold. His heart thuds loud and suffocating in his ears, and he shudders. “Sorry,” Sylvain says.

“Stop it,” Felix snaps.

Sylvain tenses. He shouldn’t have said anything. Felix is going to leave him here.

“It’s fine,” Felix says. “Lets… let’s just sit.”

Sylvain sits.

It’s cold out, but they’re from Faerghus, and they’re both dressed for the weather. They’ll be okay. Felix pulls Sylvain into his arms, though, pressing his face into his shoulder. “Are you warm enough?”

A rush of affection shoots through Sylvain. “Yeah,” he answers, quiet and hoarse. He’s scared, but he doesn’t say that. Surely Felix knows. This isn’t like that. He’s not alone, and this was an accident. It wasn’t on purpose.

“Me too,” Felix says.

Sylvain nods, burrowing a little further into Felix’s hold. He’s trembling, although it’s not from the cold. “Felix.”

Felix sighs, and gently rubs Sylvain’s back. He doesn’t speak - Felix is awful at comforting people, but he holds Sylvain, and that’s far more than he had last time. “I thought I was going to die out here,” Sylvain says. “When Miklan left me.”

“I know,” Felix says. “So did Glenn.”

Sylvain jerks his head up. “What? He did?”

Felix shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t think I was supposed to hear. When I got home from the infirmary that night, Glenn and my father were talking.”

Sylvain closes his eyes. “Oh.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Sylvain shrugs and grips the front of Felix’s cloak, as though he’s a child that needs protecting. “It’s okay.”

Felix is quiet, but he rubs Sylvain’s back and holds him close. The absurdity of it all strikes Sylvain. Here he is, a Margrave, a ruler, and he can’t even brave the snowy wilds of his lands without cowering in fear.

“You know,” Sylvain says, voice cracking. “I was going to propose to you while we were out here.”

Felix’s hand stills. “What?”

“I’m going to give Sreng their land back,” Sylvain explains. “I thought… we could marry and merge our lands.”

Felix is still as the grave. “This doesn’t sound like a proposal.”

Sylvain laughs, low and broken. “No, it doesn’t. Sorry. I… it was going to be good. I was excited.”

Felix’s hand cups Sylvain’s jaw and tilts his chin up. “You’re talking like you don’t want to marry me.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Sylvain says. “After all this. I’ve been working so much lately. What if I don’t have time for you?”

“If we live together you’ll wake up with me every morning, you oaf,” Felix snaps. “And I’ll be able to come and get you when you’re overworking yourself.”

Sylvain considers. “Oh.”

“Idiot,” Felix says, but it’s fond.

“So you would?” Sylvain’s voice cracks. "Marry me, I mean.”

Felix laughs. “That’s a shitty proposal.”

“We’re going to die out here,” Sylvain says, miserable. “What does it matter?”

Felix sighs, his slight smile falling from his face. “Sylvain,” he says, stern and serious. “We’re not going to die out here.”

Sylvain sniffs. He’s still trembling. He can’t stop, and he’s not even cold. He’s just afraid, trapped inside his body the same way he was all those years ago. He doesn’t reply, just grips Felix’s cloak tighter in his mittened hand.

Felix sighs. He pulls his glove off his hand with his teeth, then touches Sylvain’s cheek with his bare hand. He leans forward and presses their foreheads together, breathing slowly. “Sylvain.”

There’s no one here but him and Felix. There are no wolves coming, and no older brothers waiting to spit in his direction when he finally arrives home. He sighs, tension slowly easing out of him. “You’re here,” he whispers. “We’re together.”

“Mm.” Felix’s grunt of confirmation is barely a word, but it comforts Sylvain anyways.

The snow is heavy around them and the trees loom dangerously tall above, bigger than anything Sylvain could ever hope to be. He’d thought them dangerous, a sign of their insignificance and imminent death, but perhaps, if they’re lucky, they’ll be what trees have always been meant to be to wild things - protection from the elements, and shelter in times of trouble.

Sylvain tilts his head up and kisses Felix, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in the knowledge that he’s not alone.

-

In the grand scheme of it all, they’re not out in the woods for very long. Sylvain loses track of time quickly, nestled as he is in the cradle of Felix’s arms. When the estate guards find them, Sylvain is in Felix’s lap, his head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. The trees sway above them, heavy with fresh snow and muffling the outside world. There are no bitter winds or dangers - just Felix.

Sylvain doesn’t notice the guards, but Felix does. He goes stiff and unyielding under him, and Sylvain lifts his head to see the men approaching. He doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed to be caught huddling in his boyfriend’s lap like a child, and he’s sure that Felix gives off a threatening enough aura for the both of them.

Felix stands, hooking his arm under Sylvain’s knees and lifting him up. Sylvain is cradled to his chest, held there safe and warm without any question from Felix.

It’s the kind of devotion Felix has always shown Dimitri, and that Sylvain has always wished he were capable of.

Now, though, it’s levelled at him as Felix carries him to the waiting sleigh. He doesn’t speak to the guards until Sylvain is safely deposited and wrapped under the thick furs in the sleigh. He offers Sylvain the ghost of a smile, then turns and speaks to the guards. His voice is curt and sharp as ever, but when he climbs back into the sleigh and tucks himself against Sylvain’s side, he kisses the side of his head.

-

The trip back is a quiet affair. Sylvain leans on Felix’s shoulder and ignores any idle conversation the guards try to make after he’s confirmed that Minty made it home safely. Instead, he focuses on the sound of Felix’s breathing and the feeling of the wind in his hair.

When they’re home, Felix takes him straight upstairs, murmuring a quiet word of thanks to those who found them. Sylvain sits down on the small couch next to their already burning fireplace, and Felix drifts over and settles a blanket over his lap.

Sylvain doesn’t speak until there’s a hot mug of tea wrapped securely in his hands. He wants to retreat into himself and never speak again, or go sit in a small dark space until he feels safe again, but Felix is here, and patient, and deserves better than for Sylvain to leave him and hide in the crawlspace under the stairs.

“Thanks.” Sylvain’s voice is a fractured sheet of ice, jagged and waiting to take its next victim.

“Of course,” Felix says.

He’s stiff at Sylvain’s side, but melts when Sylvain kisses his cheek. Felix lets out a deep sigh, one that’s heavy and full of woe. He cares about Sylvain, and he hurts when Sylvain does. It’s still an alien concept to Sylvain on some of his bad days, but the thought that Felix worried for him relaxes him somewhat. He scoots closer and kisses the underside of Felix’s jaw. “Thanks,” he whispers once more. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

Felix swallows. “I - you’ll never have to. Find that out, I mean.”

From Felix, that’s as romantic a confession as is possible. Sylvain’s smile is slow and syrupy, and Felix’s words warm him more than his tea ever could. “I love you,” he says.

“Mm.” Felix sets his tea down and leans closer, capturing Sylvain’s lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and delicate, and Sylvain lets out a soft sigh into Felix’s mouth.

When they part, Sylvain feels a little more like himself, and Felix’s brows are no longer pinched with worry.

This is the moment, Sylvain realizes. This is what he’s been waiting for.

“Did that count?” Sylvain sets his mug of tea down. “My proposal from earlier, I mean.”

“That wasn’t really your proposal, was it?” Felix sounds dismayed, which is adorable. “You sounded as though you were on the verge of breaking up with me.”

Sylvain rubs the back of his neck. “Ah. Well. I was pretty freaked out.”

“Hmph.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Sylvain’s mouth. The fire pops behind them. Sylvain slides out from under the blankets, falling to one knee on the floor in front of the couch. “Felix Hugo Fraldarius.”

Felix flushes. “I - you didn’t have to do this right now.”

Sylvain shrugs and pulls the box out of his pocket. It’s well-polished and well-loved, and when he opens it a soft _pop_ fills the room. The ring inside is a simple, shining silver band with a delicate engraving of an ivy on it.

“I’ve loved you since before I knew what love was,” Sylvain says. “When I look back on our childhood, you’re the thing at the center of it that brings me the most joy. I’m… not myself without you. You make me a better person, and a happier one. I… like myself when I’m around you.” He takes a deep breath, his eyes starting to water with tears he’d really rather not shed. “I know you and I have both felt alone for much of our lives and I don’t want either of us to have to feel like that ever again.”

Sylvain looks up at Felix, meeting his eyes and trying to pour all the love and devotion that he’s capable of into his expression. “Felix,” he says, almost as though he’s afraid to say his name. “Will you marry me?”

Felix’s breath catches in his throat in a ragged laugh. “ _Yes_. Yes, you idiot.”

Sylvain smiles crookedly up at Felix. His heartbeat echoes through his ears, and his chest is tight. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Your idiot.”

The tips of Felix’s ears are pink as he extends a hand down to Sylvain. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Sylvain slides the ring onto Felix’s finger. “Nothing at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @edelgardlesbian!


End file.
